The Fallen Survivors SYOC
by DaysbyGrace
Summary: Everybody has a story. A story about how they survived. It could be war, a kidnapping; in some way, this person has survived something. But now, everybody is fighting to stay on this Earth. To live to tell another story. The undead have risen and our fallen survivors are in the midst of it. Will they survive? SYOC CLOSED.
1. Information

**Hey there! I'm Grace. I'm a long-time fan of The Walking Dead and I decided to host a SYOC. Form is below, as well as storyline and a piece of the prologue because according to Fanfiction's rules: you are not allowed to make a non-story. Also because this SYOC involves two of my characters (no, it's not going to be all about them. I simply added them for my own pleasure).**

 **Before you move on, if you would like to go the easier route into submitting an OC, there is a link on my profile to a google form you can easily fill out.**

 **Rules/Requirements (a MUST READ before you move on)**

1\. No Mary Sues/Gary Stus

2\. An OC can be any age but if they are younger than 10, you should keep them in the parents'/guardians' form submission

3\. All questions are required to be answered, any missing will be a less chance of accepting

4\. No relations to canon-characters or relationships with canon-characters of The Walking Dead. This is completely OC-centric.

5\. If sending by PM, title it with Fallen Survivors: OC NAME

 **Storyline:** After war, Lucas thought everything "bad" was over. He settled down with his 12-year-old daughter, Amity and found a job at a local auto repair store as a mechanic. Life was peaceful. Oh, boy was he wrong when the apocalypse hit. Lucas and Amity are forced out of their home and into the crazy, deadly world of the apocalypse. They are on the verge of death until another small group of survivors save them. Who are they?

 **Setting** : They are currently in California during a very cold winter. The survivors are hiding out at a campsite up in the mountains, living in cabins.

 **That's where you guys come in. Some of you will be part of the small group, others will join later. Characters will have a share in each chapter; meaning everybody will get their time to shine. Nobody is just going to get little sentences (well, maybe sometimes), every OC has their own POV.**

 **I have no aim at a specific amount of OCs, everybody is welcomed. However, I have high standards for my OCs and they absolutely have to fit into the storyline. Not everybody will be accepted, so be open-minded.**

 **As for the basic information for Lucas and Amity, you are going to need it to fill out a certain area in your form.**

 **Lucas** :

Gender: Male

Age: 32

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual/Straight. Lucas lost his wife to cancer while he was away at war five years prior to the apocalypse. That being said, he doesn't like to commit to a serious relationship with another woman. He prefers woman who can handle their own and has a thing for blue eyes.

Appearance: Lucas stands at 5"11 with a mesomorph build thanks to the military. He has a roundish face fitting his chocolate brown eyes and a light skin tone. His hair is a dark brown, styled in a modern pompadour. Lucas has a small scar that runs down to the right of his lips and another scar through his left brow.

Personality: Lucas is a compassionate guy with a lot of heart to give, however, he can be very unforgiving. He's bossy, another trait gained by the military, and blunt. He believes honesty is the best policy because without it, there's no loyalty. Lucas is team-spirited and collaborative which makes him extremely loyal to his friends and any group he chooses to become a part of. Although honest, he is secretive and keeps lots of important information to himself from his daughter. Partly because with the world they have come to live in; he doesn't want to take away the child in her. He's nurturing, often acting like a mother hen due to his years of raising Amity alone. Also because he has a big-heart and will treat his friends like family.

Former Job: Mechanic (former) Soldier (Former)

 **Amity** :

Gender: Female

Age: 12

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual/Straight. Being a little shy, she struggles with making friends, nonetheless talking to a person she admires. Like her father, she has a thing for guys with blue eyes and prefers if they were loyal and able to handle themselves.

Appearance: Amity stands at 5"1 with an slender build, her arms are shaped with muscle due to boxing but nothing extreme or noticeable. She has a roundish face fitting a pair of bright blue eyes, inherited by her mother and a light skin tone. Her hair is a dark brown, almost looking black unless in the sun; it's wavy usually up in a ponytail or in a braid. When colder weather comes, she'll usually wear a beanie. She a small birthmark on her right cheekbone.

Personality: Amity is a genuinely bright girl, always curious and innovative. She's adventurous thanks to her curiosity but doesn't like to take risks. Amity is agreeable and decisive as well as easy to talk to, but is easily affected by peer pressure. She's afraid to change and become cold-hearted like some people around her. She is big-hearted just like her father, and wants to treat the group like family.

 **OC Form:**

Name: [include middle and last. Nicknames in ""]:

Gender:

Birth date [month and day only]:

Age:

Sexual Orientation [state accordingly and then explain what type of people your OC likes in personality, looks, ect.]:

Family:

Former Home:

Appearance [Brief description of what your character looks like]:

Race:

Ethnicity:

Height:

Weight:

Build:

Outfit 1:

Outfit 2:

Medical Conditions [Optional]:

Scars/Birthmarks:

Tattoos/Piercings:

Personality [Brief description your character's personality. Don't forget to try and balance the positives with negatives.]

Relationship with Amity:

Relationship with Lucas:

Intellectual Strengths:

Intellectual Weaknesses:

Combat Strengths:

Combat Weaknesses:

Fears:

Habits:

Hobbies:

Pre-Apocalypse [Describe what your character was like before zombies took over. What did they like to do? Where do they like to go? Etc.]:

Level of Education:

Former Job: [If applicable]

Gear [How prepared are your characters for the apocalypse? What do they wear? What are they carrying? Who are they with? Do they have shelter or are they on the move? What weapons are they carrying? Remember that the situation and environment will affect things like people and clothing.]:

Miscellaneous [Anything additional you want to add to your character goes here.]:

 **Piece of Prologue:**

"Dad, where are we going?" Amity spoke in a concerned-filled voice, her blue eyes looking to meet mine. She sat impatiently in the passenger's seat next to me and her legs bounced up and down in a rhythm. Her brows furrowed and mouth formed in a firm line, waiting for an answer as we drove silently down the road.

"I don't know," I answered honestly, keeping my eyes on the stretching asphalt ahead of me. I didn't dare look at her; she'd notice the fear I had and the last thing I needed was for Amity to be worried. "Did you grab your inhaler?" I asked, attempting to change the subject.

To my avail, she nodded without a protest, reaching into her pocket to grab the portable device responsible in saving her from sudden asthma attacks. She hasn't used it since my wife died, but it was an essential need to be carried around just in case.

"Right here." She replied, waving the inhaler slightly.

I nodded, "good." Then the car ride went back to its tense silence.

The trees of the forest seemed to stretch farther as I continued down the road. Forests here are thick and with the waning sunlight, I knew this could get dangerous if we didn't find shelter soon. The virus excels in the city, however, I wasn't sure if the virus had spread to animals, meaning their could be trouble in the thick brush of the woods. All I know is that being stuck in a shed for a night is better than waiting to see what's out in the dark. My military experience has taught me to be cautious and that's what I was going to stick with throughout the rest of the night.

 _That is until my car broke down..._

 **It's not my best piece, but it will be revised before the official prologue is out. Anyways, get into submitting those OCs and you shall see a chapter up and ready soon. Thank you!**


	2. Prologue

He was a mechanic.

For five years, Lucas was a mechanic.

Yet, before leaving his Californian home for an unexpected "road-trip", he didn't think to grab his toolbox. The one thing that carries all heavenly devices Lucas could proficiently use to fix the broken truck and get the hell out of California.

Instead, he took a bloodied bat after bashing his neighbor's head in. The poor guy had been pounding on their sliding door at dawn only to be brutally killed by a dear friend. Of course, Lucas didn't know that he was infected when he let him in. He attacked the man out of self-defense after he tried to bite him and beat him with his daughter's softball bat.

The young girl was horrified when she saw her father standing over the familiar man who lived next to them for 9 years. After that, Lucas packed as much as he could with a self-given time of an hour, then they were out.

Amity sighed beside him, her eyes fixated on the trees as if something would jump out. Lucas couldn't blame her. He was afraid something would come out of those woods, too.

He reached for the car door and pushed it open with a harsh grip; sharing the same bout of frustration as his daughter. He spared a glance back at her and sent a small smile, "hang tight."

She nodded and exchanged the smile, but it was forced, her anxiety showed through with the simple shaking of her legs.

Lucas drew out a long sigh, his breath coming out in misty waves. He flipped open the front of the vehicle, eyes darting around to glance at every component. His quick and detailed observations are part of what landed him in the military. However, his sergeant never taught him to prepare for the nascent of the apocalypse.

He tinkered slightly with the radiator, but immediately pulled his finger away when a wet substance came to greet it.

"Battery acid…"

He quickly wiped his finger on the hem of his shirt, avoiding the dangerous cost of the toxic acidic burning through his fingers and peered into the windshield to meet Amity's curious gaze.

"Turn the key," he ordered, gesturing his right hand as if he was holding an imaginary key. "I think the battery might've been damaged."

She nodded once and leaned over, turning the key with a simple movement of her hand. The car only sputtered and then died. Amity frowned and leaned into her chair with a sigh, watching her father close the hood with a slam and walking around to meet her at her door.

"Grab your things. There's an old auto shop nearby," he informed. "I'm sure they have a battery."

"What if they're sick?" Amity questioned, grabbing her bag from off the floor and reaching for the handle of the door. "I don't want to see another person die. Not like the way-" She paused as a disturbing feeling rushed over her.

"Not like the way Mr. King died."

Lucas opened the door for her and she hopped out, swinging the small black bag over her shoulder. A pang of guilt tickled at his stomach as he walked over to the back of his truck, "I'm sorry you had to see that," he apologized, moving his bag from the truck and lifting it over his shoulder.

Amity shrugged, "it's not the worst I've seen." She muttered.

Lucas ambled ahead of her with the bat hanging loosely from his fingers. He obviously didn't hear her or else he would've said something about the morbid comment. On the other hand, Amity couldn't get the image of her own mother out of her head. The pale woman laying lifeless on a hospital bed, her hand dangling off the edge and easy to hold for her small daughter. The exhausted smile and blue eyes slowly fading of its color. It was a long, difficult battle resulting in death and Amity wasn't the same ever since.

"Come on, Am," Lucas ushered, holding out his free hand for her to hold. A protective mechanism in case they encountered trouble.

She only rolled her eyes, "Dad, I'm 12, not 5; I can keep up with your pace."

He frowned slightly, "okay. Just walk where I can see you."

Amity smiled reassuringly and followed in suit with her father's steps. At that, Lucas relaxed slightly, his features softening and returned the smile with a small smirk.

The walk wasn't long. He remembered coming down this road several times throughout the past couple of years and knew what buildings stood around here. One consisting of the auto repair store and the other was a gas station.

 _Five minutes there and back. That's all it would take to get a battery and then start down the road again,_ Lucas thought.

At least that's how long he hoped it would be.

 **=X=**

"Let me help you," Charlotte Carter's smooth voice echoed in the ear of her traveling companion. He struggled to lift himself up onto an RV, his prosthetic leg nothing but a nuisance as it fell into the crevice on the stairs. She had tried to help him pull the plastic device, but he only pushed her away.

"Ah, no," he spoke in his gruff southern accent, sending her an irritated glance, "I've got it, Charlie."

Reluctantly, she stepped back, raising her brows in disapproval and holding her hands up as if she surrendered.

Noah Greggory, your typical grouchy southern gentlemen, smiled slightly with pleasure as he pulled his prosthetic up from the crevice. He chuckled humorlessly and sent Charlie an "I told you so" look.

"See," He said, shaking his missing leg lightly, "I got it without your help."

She frowned, watching him limp towards the front of the RV, "not without a little push from me,"

"Whatever." Noah snorted.

She rolled her eyes, a grin crossing her face as she climbed up to join her old friend. Noah had been a neighbor next to her family's ranch and had promised to take care of her after the death of her father. The two have been inseparable ever since.

"You're really going to leave without an extra set of hands?" Saffron Kirk's flat tone sounded more like a dull comment instead of a question. Her murky brown eyes narrowed against the waning sunlight and thick brows raised in question.

Green met brown, and Charlie instantly felt uncomfortable under the woman's stern stare.

"I've got Noah with me," She remarked.

Saffron moved her hands to her hips, shifting her weight to one side of her body, "that old man? He'll keep you behind. Once you're down there, he's a dead man walking," She retorted bluntly. "An extra person with a gun couldn't hurt."

Charlie frowned and opened her mouth to spit back a rude comment, but Noah's voice filled that void, "hey, what's takin' so long?"

"Saffron wants to come," she replied, keeping harsh eye contact between her and the red-haired woman.

Noah shrugged from behind the wheel, "I don't see why she can't," he admitted and then raised his voice so Saffron could hear him, "hey, get Jimmy before we leave! I could use another guy with great aim."

Saffron nodded and turned away from Charlie, breaking the competing stare, her straight red-hair flicking to one side as she strolled off to find the young father.

Charlotte glared at her retreating figure and then stepped into the RV, feeling the rumble of the engine as she sat in the passenger's seat besides Noah.

Soon after, Saffron appeared with a somewhat large man. His sandy blond hair moved in sync with the soft, chilled wind.

The two climbed into the truck, Charlotte and Saffron sharing a cold glance through the rearview mirror.

Noah shifted the gear, unaware of the exchanged looks between the two girls and started down the path of the campground, gingerly pushing on the pedal to avoid plummeting down a small hill at an inhuman speed.

"Alright," he grunted, pulling up his slacking shape, "let's do this."

The campsite was planted on top of a small mountain and was considered safe in the eyes of the previous soldier. There were a group of cabins, enough to hold at least 30 people and Noah decided to make his safe-haven there.

"So, where are we going?" Jimmy asked, his foot tapping against the floor impatiently, "I don't want to be too long; Brian is a worrier."

"Girlie's runnin' out of juice," Noah replied, patting on the steering wheel in gesture to the name, "There's an old auto repair store not too far from here. Used to go there all the time for 'her' fuel."

Jimmy nodded and Charlie sent him a whole-hearted smile, "how old is your son, again?"

He grinned, his bright blue eyes lighting up with interest, "he's 12, turning 13 next month. He's growing up fast," then he frowned, "I hope I don't get to miss any of it."

Noah peered at him through the rearview mirror, his eyes gleaming with determination, "you won't. I promise you that."

Jimmy nodded, grinning with appreciation, but with the virus spreading and an experience up close, he knew the promise was just another thing that would soon die just like everybody else.

 **=X=**

"It's closed," Amity informed, pointing at a sign that dangled from the door.

Lucas furrowed his thick brows, rubbing the dark stubble on his chin in thought, "it shouldn't be," he said. "Service hours are long after dusk."

He then stepped towards the door, knocking lightly on the glass. When no answer came, he knocked louder, "hello?"

The young girl and her father exchanged skeptical looks.

"Why isn't anybody answering?" She asked, fixing her bag with a shaky hand. She was nervous.

Lucas shrugged, "I don't know," he replied and then crouched down with a grunt of effort, placing the metal bat next to him, "and if nobody's going to help us, we'll help ourselves."

He examined the lock on the door and Amity stared at him incredulously, "are you crazy? We can't break in! We'll get in trouble and then you'll go to jail. Where would I go without you? A prison isn't exactly the safest place for a child, or even for you. There's probably sick inmates and then we'd get sick and then we'll die and come back as one of those… _things_!"

He stifled a laugh, the unreleased air coming out as a snort through his nose, "you're such a pessimist."

Amity glared, "this isn't funny."

Lucas turned towards her, a smirk poking wildly at his lips, "you've got a bobby pin?"

"Dad!" She scolded, slapping his shoulder lightly.

He chuckled, but then stood up and looked to her seriously, "I wish I was joking, but this is serious," he admitted, grabbing her shoulders to meet her worried blue gaze, "listen, this virus… it's deadly. It spreads quickly and we need to leave before things can get worse. I've heard of a place with a quarantine zone; a place that will keep us safe from this. The only way we can get there is if we fix up the truck. Do you understand?"

The blue-eyed girl nodded frantically, "I understand."

Lucas pulled back a strand of her dark hair and sighed, "good," he nodded and then pulled away from her, grabbing the bat from off the ground, "stand back."

She took a few steps backwards, watching intently as her father pulled back the bat and struck the window with a powerful hit. The ear-splitting sound of shattering glass echoed through the moist air and Lucas trudged forward, carefully climbing through the wide-framed window and then turning towards Amity, "come on, I'll help you up."

She sauntered over to the window and grasped Lucas' open arm. Biceps flexed as she pulled at his arm, slowly and cautiously crossing her legs over to avoid the sharp teeth of the remaining pieces of glass on the window.

Once Amity had landed gracefully to the other side, she and her father shared a confused look. The building was dark, stripped of its power. The lot was empty; except one car that hung loosely from its lift at the end of the soundless building. No one showed up to greet them.

Lucas ventured forth, Amity trailing up behind him.

"That car looks brand new. I might just take that one instead of trying to fix the truck,"

Amity cocked a brow, "you know how to hotwire a car?"

He shrugged, "you learn a lot of useless tactics in the army," and then smiled, "but hotwiring may not have been so useless in this case."

"If it was so useless, why did you stay?" She questioned sharply.

The smile disappeared as quickly as it came, "I had to," he replied simply, turning around to face her with brows raised in question.

A deep exhale escaped her pink lips, intense blue eyes gazing upwards to meet her father's skeptical look.

"You could have come home," she insisted, "saw mom before her last breath."

"Amity-" Lucas started, his voice dragging on with a pitiful tone, unprepared of the unspoken conversation.

"Don't tell me it was because of the PTSD," she interjected, slightly angered by the patronized sound of her name, "that you couldn't come home because you were afraid of hurting people,"

He nodded, his face tinged with a pink color as a sudden pang of guilt came in waves through his stomach.

"It was hard before I left," his voice was soft, "all of the arguing, Am, I couldn't deal with it,"

"So you decide that it was okay to never come back? To never see your wife while she was on a deathbed?"

"I couldn't come back," he whispered.

"Wha-?" Her delicate face scrunched in confusion. Another deep exhale plowed its way out of her mouth and covered up the need to sob with a loud groan.

Brown met blue again, but this time her eyes were brimmed with tears.

"Mom was dying," she said firmly, and then paused when Lucas didn't answer.

"Mom was dying and I was alone!" the last word came out broken, several tears dripping down her cheeks.

"Amity, I couldn't come back," he said again, staring at her pitifully.

She wiped stray tears and scoffed, "I thought family comes first,"

At that, his fists clenched, the sad gleam in his eyes suddenly disappearing and a rageful look replaced it. Lucas took quick, angry strides towards his daughter and then placed his hands tightly around her shoulders.

"I couldn't come back, because your mother was sleeping with another man!"

She froze, eyes wide in horror, lips twitching slightly.

Then there was a loud bang and a snarl.

Lucas let go of his daughter, her shock-ridden figure not bothering to move.

"What the hell was that?" he whispered.

Another snarl echoed throughout the empty building and the sound of shuffling feet followed afterwards. Then five guys emerged from out of a blue, rusty door.

Lucas squinted, attempting to get a better look at the people and put his hands up in gesture of reassurance, "hey! Sorry for all of the chaos. Just looking for a car battery."

They gurgled and snarled, quickening their pace with their arms stretched in front of them. His eyes widened at the realization of what was coming towards them, and he quickly pushed Amity towards cover.

"Stay there!" He whispered.

"But, Dad-" She protested, eyes wide as she gripped at his hand, attempting to keep him from the ill.

"Just stay there!"

Then he squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"I'll be back."

 **Some OCs have been introduced, however, not all of them; so if you didn't see yours, do not fret my friend because chances are, they are most likely to appear in next chapter.**

 **I'm sorry that their part in this was so small, it was an introduction really. Next chapter OCs will have a bigger part and we will see more character development for each group member.**

 **Lemme' know what you think and leave a review. Feedback is much appreciated.**

 **~Grace**

 _ **Huge thanks to the following:**_

 _ **BeautyIsStrange**_ _ **(couldn't put the dots xD)**_ _ **for Noah Greggory and Charlotte Carter**_

 _ **Jacob14**_ _ **for Jimmy Santana, Brian Santana and Taylor Schone**_

 _ **crazyCULTure**_ _**for Saffron Kirk**_

 _ **More names will be displayed here next chapter as I don't want to spoil the surprise for the others who did get accepted. If you want to know now, PM me.**_


	3. Chapter 1

**Thanks to:**

 _ **dr3amqu33n**_ _**for Raenn Moore**_

 _ **Jacob14**_ _**for Taylor Schone**_

 _ **DarkRyder**_ _**for Jonathan Guerrero**_

 _ **AltariaMotives**_ _**for Jackson Donovan**_

 _ **motordog**_ _**for Cooper Lennox**_

 _ **IAmTheStars**_ _**for Kaitlin Lamb**_

 **Although some of your OC's don't show up in this chapter, they will be making their appearance in the next couple of chapters.**

 **If your OC did not get accepted, there's a possibility I might add them much later in the story.**

 **As for those with accepted OCs, I have already planned out much of the story, so the fates of each character have already been decided. Meaning, I have plans for each and every one of them. If you have any ideas for your OC, please PM me.**

 **Chapters do take time to write and if I happen to not post on Tuesday, please don't ask or plead me to update. You have to know that I'm writing it out.**

 **On another note, it's not a requirement to review (as it should never be) but I do want those with accepted OCs to review occasionally so I can know that I'm writing your character correctly. Feedback is much appreciated.**

"One margarita, please," the customer sat patiently, her eyes focused on the shelves of alcoholic drinks. In front of her stood Raeann Moore, her golden blond locks tinted red in sync with the neon signs above her. Her deep blue eyes darted between the door and people who took a seat on the counter. She knew that it was about to get busy. It was usually like this during a night-shift, but Raeann couldn't take any other time because she watched over her niece while her sister was at work. Nonetheless, she liked her job as a bartender. Also, she knew it would be an easy job to acquire with a high school education.

Raeann smiled politely and nodded, "comin' right up."

Grabbing the bottle from off the shelf, she noticed the woman staring at her, eerie green eyes dilated like a cat's, mouth upturned in a frown and brows furrowed as if she were thinking. An anxious feeling tickled at Raenn's stomach and she began to feel a little uneasy, but shook it off; letting her carefree personality overpower the sudden negative vibe.

She placed the bottle on the counter and sent her a small smile, hoping she'd return the gesture to give her relief. To her dismay, the woman turned away and began sipping at her drink, the cat-like eyes darting worriedly to glance at the people around her.

 _Paranoid much…_ Raeann thought and winced at the judgemental tone of her thought. _Don't do that Rae._

Two more people took a seat by the bar, waiting for Rae to tend to their needs, but her eyes glued onto the woman.

"Excuse me," Raenn spoke, tapping her shoulder lightly and the woman flinched, "are you okay?"

She glared, "I didn't know this was some patronizing service."

"I'm sorry," she apologized, taking an awkward step back.

Her face softened as she set down her drink and stared at the condensing water as if even she was amazed by her unusual eye color, "Everyone's going to die."

Raenn's breath caught in her throat and she blinked twice, suddenly finding herself astounded, "what?"

Green met blue; a dark red against the bright lights of the neon signs attached to the bar.

"Everyone's going to die. Including you if you don't pack some bags and leave this town,"

"What do you mean?" Raenn asked.

"Didn't you hear? The dead is rising, blondie,"

 _The dead? Was this woman serious or was she tipsy?_ She thought.

Raeann chuckled, "Dead rising? I think you've had one too many drinks," she replied, but her voice was shaky with tension. She's heard of a virus going around but she didn't know that it made people… come back.

The woman shook her head, obviously disappointed in her reaction. Her hands clasped around the drink and she gulped the tangy liquid in one swallow, slamming the glass down on the table and wiped her mouth in satisfaction.

" _The dead is rising and when they come, they will take all of us_."

 **=X=**

A key locked in place, turning with ease. Taylor Schone glanced both left and right in the hallway of his apartment building, which was now eerily quiet, a crowbar slipping slightly between the fingers of his sweaty hand. Even his metalhead neighbor didn't play his screaming music.

He pushed open the door, wincing at the creaking sound it made and piled into the room before anyone- or any _thing_ \- heard his noisy entrance.

Taylor closed the door behind him and glanced around his room. A small smirk crossed his face at the tidiness. Except for a few unpacked boxes scattered across the room, the place seemed neat and unharmed in contrast to what nasty shit was going on outside. Relief fell over him; his roommates didn't make a mess the day before. Then he realized that they would never get the chance to. Only if those looters hadn't bothered to explode their car, then they'd still be alive. But now he was alone, left with minor scrapes and bruises to take care of himself.

He limped towards the bathroom, not out of pain, but discomfort. The bleeding scrapes on his knees were uncomfortable and the thought of adding two more scars didn't make him feel tough, they only felt like a reminder of his friends' deaths.

He nearly tripped over a box of trophies his friend brought. Taylor scoffed at the thought of his arrogant friend. He'd never go somewhere without bringing something to rub in Taylor's face, whether it be some medals he won in soccer tournaments when he was 9 (though his girlfriend didn't know) or some used condoms to prove he had more sex than him.

Taylor shoved the box over with his foot and it fell over, trophies clanking together. The bathroom was empty except for a few things in the cabinet next to the mirror. He set his crowbar down and opened the cabinet, hands easily finding their way to a roll of bandage. He didn't have anything to clean out the wounds except water from the sink, but that'd have to do since his friend's girlfriend was all "holistic" and didn't like the chemical use of hydrogen peroxide.

He took a towel from off the shelf and set it besides the sink as he reached to turn the faucet. He then soaked the towel in cool water and brought it to his right knee. Dabbing the towel on his wound and then wrapping it with two rounds of bandage. As soon as it felt tight enough, he moved to his left knee, pressing gently on the wound until blood soaked the entire side he used. Then he wrapped that knee in bandage as well, ripping the rest of the roll away with a bite and tear.

He set the roll of bandage beside him and sat for a moment, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His long brown hair was glimmering with sweat despite being pulled back into a ponytail. The greenish-blue orbs seemed dark as if his emotions leaked through his eyes.

 _What the hell am I doing here?_ Taylor thought, turning his head away from the mirror and examining the bruises along his arms and legs. _Why didn't I die with them?_

He looked away from his bruises and shook his head to himself. _Don't dwell on the past, Taylor._

He got up with a grunt of effort, his knees popping at the abrupt motion. He took his crowbar from off the sink and the bandage laying in the floor. Taking one last look in the mirror, he turned towards the door and trudged towards the kitchen.

A small black bag sat on the island and next to it was a map of California. He took the bag and swung it over his shoulder, the small scrape on his elbow burning at the movement. He then fetched a pen and began drawing on the map.

Circle on Shasta county and marked in big, bold letters " **INFECTED** "; the place he was staying to enjoy the Sacramento river with his friends. Places he knew were infected he circled. Modoc, Lassen, Siskiyou, Del Norte, Trinity, and Humboldt.

 _Infected, infected, infected, infected, infected, infected._ He then wrote, " **NORTHERN CALIFORNIA TAKEN BY THE DEAD** ".

"Damn…" he whispered, pulling away from the map and capping the pen. "This virus spreads fast…"

Taylor examined the map. _If Northern California has already been infected, wouldn't the rest of the state be under some type of martial law? If I could get to Southern California, they might have a safe place. Assuming they've took the initiative to prepare._

He nodded at his plan and folded the map, placing it in the side pocket of the bag. Grabbing his crowbar, he readily ventured forth, opening the door to his apartment for the last time. He spared a glance back at the room and pictured his friend sitting on the couch, arms around his girlfriend and him sitting besides them, throwing popcorn as they watched some cheesy horror movie. That's what it was supposed to be like. But now, he was in the midst of the apocalypse with only one thing in mind.

 _Salvation._

 **=X=**

 _On a desert highway, cool wind in my hair_

 _Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air_

 _Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light_

 _My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim, I had to stop for the night._

"What the hell…"

 _There she stood in the doorway, I heard the mission bell_

 _And I was thinking to myself_

 _This could be heaven or this could be hell_

The RV came to an abrupt, skidding stop. Music still continued to play loudly; obnoxiously, blaring through the speakers. It was a creepy relevance.

 _Welcome to the Hotel California._

 _Such a lovely place._

 _Such a lovely face._

What stood in the road was horror.

Bodies.

 _Dead, burned_ bodies.

California is surely a lovely place now.

Noah got up with a grunt, his prosthetic bumping against the steering wheel as he stood. He took a shotgun from off of the rack, which usually sat there looking pretty until the apocalypse. With shotgun in hands, Noah hobbled to the door and reached for the handle, glancing back at the other members.

"Why the hell are you just sitting there?" Noah questioned, scowling, "repair shop is up ahead. We don't have to drive through these bodies." He opened the door and struggled down the steps, grumbling about the inconvenience under his breath.

Saffron and Jimmy slowly climbed out of the RV, avoiding to look at the charred corpses and focused on trying to warm themselves in the sudden chill of icy air. When Charlie didn't follow after, Noah knocked on her window.

"Hey, you okay?"

She nodded and forced a smile, "I'm fine." But shivers ran up her spine at the thought of someone burning bodies. It was an unusual, morbid sight and something she never wanted to see again.

As soon as she hopped down, the group began down the street, all sparing a glance at the scorched bodies. Jimmy's face was crumpled in an obvious wince. Charlie's stomach felt weak and Saffron had avoided the topic of burning bodies altogether, whistling a soft tune to Bob Dylan's _Hurricane_.

Nobody talked. The air was filled with a cold silence and Saffron's whistling could barely be heard above the wind. The only noise that kept them company was the sound of their chattering teeth.

From past the turn of trees, Noah could just make out a gray bricked-building. A huge blue sign stood sturdy near the door despite its worn out look.

 **Shasta County Auto Repair Services**

They crossed into the grass, feet crackling underneath frozen greens. A couple steps and then they were on the road again. Charlie couldn't help but look left and right; a rule she learned as a kid.

The building was faded of its color, obviously very old. Noah smirked to himself, chest puffed up in pride, "I used to get my girlie fixed here,"

He took a step back to view it, trying to remember all of his times here when his RV broke down. His wife usually complained, but he enjoyed skipping his wife's book club meetings.

He frowned when he noticed a broken window, "looks like somebody broke in."

"Maybe we should be on watch for some men in orange suits," Jimmy insisted sarcastically, hands brushing over the handgun tucked in his waistband.

As if on cue, a scream echoed through the air; child-like and full of fear.

That was enough to send Jimmy piling through the broken window. His heart sped up and it felt like his stomach was burning, anticipation rushing through his veins. At first he spotted a man, hands and face spattered with blood, bat swinging wildly. Then he spotted a girl, backing away from a biter that managed to escape from the sights of the older man. Jimmy moved quick and winced at the stinging pain that shot through his leg.

 _Must've cut myself on the window_ …

The biter attempted to pin the girl, but Jimmy lunged and tackled it. Now pinned beneath Jimmy's muscular soccer body, the biter snapped at his face, attempting to take a bite out of his "tasty" flesh. It let out a strangled snarl as Jimmy landed his free hand around its neck and lined up his gun to meet its pale forehead. Hands flailed, clenching at Jimmy's winter coat but before anything could escalate, he sent a bullet right through it's brain. Murky red blood oozed from under its skull.

Jimmy sat there for a moment, breathlessly. Then he noticed blood leaking from its neck. At first he thought it was from his chokehold, but the biter wasn't decaying yet. It was newly infected. The wound was deep and straight across the neck, cutting off oxygen from going through its body. Somebody slit their throat.

Gunshots caught his attention and he snapped his head up to see Noah holding his shotgun as a biter fell in front of the stranger. The man jumped back as the body fell and turned to Noah with skepticism.

He nodded nonetheless, "thank you," he spoke.

Noah smirked, "no problem," he puffed up his chest and laid the shotgun on his shoulder. "What're you doing here? Obviously it's important if ya' had to break in,"

Noah shared the same skeptical look and Jimmy noticed his hand was tightened around his shotgun; a good grip in case he wanted to simply bring it down and shoot without hesitation. Which meant it was already loaded.

"Just trying to find a battery," he insisted. "My truck broke down and we were headed somewhere important."

"We?"

Jimmy looked to the girl, already crouched down to her level. She hadn't moved an inch. In fact, she just stood there, staring at the ground as if she just went through something traumatic.

 _Well, I guess the dead walking could be pretty damn scary for a kid._

"Hey, you okay?" Jimmy asked, voice soft and careful.

No answer, just heavy breaths.

He opened his mouth to say something comforting but another voice replaced that void.

"Amity?"

She crossed her arms tightly, as if she was trying to make herself smaller; nonexistent.

"I… I'm okay," she spoke, her voice barely audible to even Jimmy.

Jimmy stood up and put his hand on her back, relieved when she didn't flinch. He gently pushed her forward, escorting her away from the biter and in the sights of the man.

The stranger first looked to the girl, a deep exhale escaping his mouth as his features softened. Then he noticed the biter on the floor in a pool of blood, mouth gaped open and gray eyes staring vacantly upwards.

He took a couple steps forward until he met the girl, creased brows and disapproving frown. He was worried. The stranger then grabbed her chin, tilting and turning her head to check for marks.

"Did it hurt you?" He asked, fingers still on her chin as he made eye contact.

She shook her head, "I told you, Dad, I'm fine."

Her father stepped back and nodded, another deep sigh of relief plowing through his mouth. He then exchanged looks between the two unfamiliar men.

"Thank you for your help," he gestured towards Jimmy who smiled in return. "I'm Lucas and this is my daughter, Amity."

Noah sent Amity a crooked smile and then returned the greeting, "Name is Noah Greggory," he held out his hand for a shake.

Lucas hesitated before taking his obligation and Noah snorted, "I don't bite."

He nodded, chest puffed and fists clenched as if trying to match to Noah's intimidation. Or rather in protection if his daughter.

"Jimmy Santana," Jimmy greeted, not bothering for the handshake.

The two men shared nods and the girl stayed quiet behind her father. She didn't look scared, or like she was trying to hide from them. Rather surprised and thinking.

"You guys sick?" Noah asked, blue eyes narrowed.

Lucas backed up slightly, bat tightly gripped in his right hand and left reaching for his shock-struck daughter.

"Of course not," He said gruffly. "If we were, I would've taken us both out already."

At that, his daughter flinched and a quiet gasp escaped her mouth.

"What about you two? Are you sick?" Lucas questioned, oblivious to Amity's understanding.

Jimmy shook his head and Noah snorted again, "wouldn't be here to save you if we were," he nodded towards a biter body, "by the looks of it; you got yourself in a trap, my friend."

"Trap? Place didn't look rigged,"

"Until we started yelling…" Amity muttered softly, blue eyes looked dull under the shadow of her hair as she stood staring at her feet.

"Sound trap," Noah informed.

"Their throats were cut, like somebody killed them before they turned," Jimmy piped up. "Maybe it's the same person that burned those bodies out in the road."

"Maybe," Noah replied and turned to Lucas, "you said your truck broke down; where were you headed?"

"South," he answered. "Heard they have a quarantine zone,"

Jimmy stuffed his gun back into his waistband, a movement he could occupy himself with to redirect his thoughts, "I came from there," he said. "It's in ruins. US Military bombed cities before it could spread."

"So, the virus originated there?" Lucas questioned, eyes dilated in interest.

Jimmy shook his head, "nobody knows where it came from."

Amity took in small, shaky breaths, "the whole world could be infected."

"Before news was cut, CDC was working on a cure. This virus could be gone in a couple of weeks," Jimmy insisted.

"Yeah, after the world is in ruins," Noah grumbled.

Amity's breath hitched and Lucas sent him a deathly glare; a warning in choice of words.

"We have nowhere to go…" Amity whispered.

Noah sighed, obviously regretting his previous words and lack of understanding to a child's mind. "That's not true, girlie," he said, his southern accent gruff and it was noticeable when he attempted to make it softer. "I've got a group a few miles back. Gated campground; biters have a hard time climbin'. There's lots of room and I don't see why we can't take you two,"

Jimmy nodded an agreement, "it's the closest thing to safe we have to offer."

"Sounds great," Lucas admitted, a small smile poking at his lips despite trying to keep an intimidating demeanor, "it's been hell without anybody but ourselves. I'll do anything to keep my stay,"

"Good," Noah smirked. "When we get back, we'll have some drinks. I've got a stash of booze callin' my name."

"We better get to the RV," Jimmy remarked. "The sun is setting and I don't like an impatient Saffron. So, if you're coming with us, I suggest we move now."

Noah nodded, "that; and the dark doesn't seem to be as dangerous as it was before."

"What do you mean?" Lucas asked.

"Well, there seems to be a killer on the loose."


	4. Chapter 2

_Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _You have three new messages._

Cooper Lennox sat frozen against his leather couch, blue eyes staring blankly at the TV in front of him. Blood was stained on his hands, which were shaking uncontrollably, and a small black phone buzzed with a new voice message.

He brought his hands to his face and massaged his eyelids, blood instantly making red streaks on his tan skin. Drops of sweat slowly fell from his forehead, creating tiny wet dots on the fabric. It seems he was crying. Eyes all puffy and clothes soaked.

But he hadn't cried one bit. Even after his friends ushered him away from the scene that seemed to come straight out of a horror movie. Or even after they left and the suspense of their life status had suddenly caused him to worry when they didn't come back.

The trembling hadn't been from terror or shock. It was purely a genetic he was stuck with.

Cooper shakily lifted himself up and stumbled forward, glassy eyes darting around in search for his black duffel bag. The furniture around him seemed to double and he had to hold out his hand to guide himself. When he reached the bag, he quickly unzipped it, his quivering fingers finding it hard to get a good grasp on the zip.

Inside lay his medkit; something he always carries around ever since he received one in med-school. Next to the medkit was a small black case. Cooper grabbed and unzipped the black pack, a stock of syringes sat lined up neatly along with two bottles of clear liquid. Cool air was quick to greet him, which meant his medicine was still cold and good to use.

Hands desperately grabbed a syringe and one of the bottles. He then opened the bottle, almost dropping it between his damp fingers, and stuck the needle in the clear liquid. He pulled up on the knob and the capsule attached to the syringe slowly started to fill in match to the clear liquid in the bottle.

When the syringe got full, he pulled out the needle and lifted up his shirt. Despite being drenched in sweat, his skin was cool. The shakiness, cold sweats, and blurry vision wasn't a good sign. He kept from taking his medicine for two days, awaiting the arrival of his prescription from doctors. They normally wouldn't take so long, in fact, a few hours at most, but the strike of the virus had them busy.

Cooper grabbed at the skin near his belly button and slowly stabbed the needle into his fat. The stinging feeling was nothing new and something he could easily ignore.

 _15 minutes and I'll feel better… just last 15 minutes…_

He put down the syringe and capped the bottle, not bothering to put everything back into place until the wave had passed.

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Five new messages._

He drew out a long sigh, the eerie playback of a robotic voice echoed continuously from the small black phone. Cooper reluctantly let go of his aid and abandoned the case laid out on the table, slowly traveling back to where he sat. He lifted the phone and sat on the couch with an 'oof'.

He then pressed on a button before the creepy robotic voice came back.

"Message number one; recorded at 1:32 PM," a stern female voice replaced the phone's and Cooper instantly recognized it, "Angel here. I know you haven't got your meds yet, but we need you at the hospital,"

Sirens wailed in the background and she drew a long sigh through the speaker, "as soon as possible. People are sick and it's spreading faster than doctors can handle. You're trained in the field- or at least training in the field- and we can use an extra hand. If things get worse, the hospital might be put under a code black," the last two words left shivers down his spine. California hospitals rarely had code black, in fact, this would be the first in fifty years.

"It's serious, Cooper. We could use your help."

Then her voice was gone, replaced by a sudden silence.

"Would you like to hear that message again?"

Cooper pressed another button, declining the robotic girl's offer and clicked to listen to the second.

"Message number two; recorded at 3:22 PM,"

"Hey, man," a male voice echoed through the phone, low but oddly calm despite the sirens in the background. It was one of his friends; a special someone he just started getting around to.

"It's Matthew. Things are getting rough over here and though your help would be much appreciated- and your presence," Cooper felt his face warm a bit at his sudden charm but the feeling quickly faded at his next words.

"But you can't come back. It's too dangerous. We don't know what this is. The virus… it's bringing people back," a frustrated sigh could be heard from the other end, "I don't know. I'll try to update you, but you can't be here. Keep up with the news. I'll talk to you later."

"Would you like to hear-"

But he simply rejected, quickly moving onto the next message.

"Message number three; recorded at 5:15 PM,"

"Matthew, again," he sounded tired, "still don't know what this is. We were told CDC was checking it out and we'd be updated every hour. For now, all I have to tell you is that I was right. They're coming back, Coop. It's like the undead is rising," he then chuckled wearily, "I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. I'll update you as soon as I can. And for once, pick up the phone. You got me worried…"

"Would you like-"

He skipped over her again, immediately moving to the next message. His heart beat faster and the anticipation of Matthew's messages only made his wave even worse.

"Message number four; recorded at 7:35 PM,"

"You gotta leave, man… they're coming back. They're all coming back!" Pounding could be heard and Matthew's nervous breaths were loud through the phone. "Shhh, you have to stay quiet, Angel. Nick, help calm her down,"

Cooper was surprised by Matthew's sudden take in leadership despite the horrifying situation they seemed to be stuck in.

"Coop, you have to get out of California. And if you can't leave, lock the doors, close the blinds because they're coming. They smell your blood; they hear your every breath. And Coop, don't get bit."

The message cut again and it felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. He didn't want to hear the last message because he knew that it'd be something terrifying. He hesitated before clicking for the last message.

"Message number five; recorded at 9:05 PM,"

 _That was only five minutes ago…_

Crying could be heard over the line. It belonged to Matthew, deep and broken. He sniffled, "I don't know if you're still there. Hell, you probably never were. But if you get this message, I just wanted to let you know that I loved you," he chuckled raspily which slowly turned into a sob, "I still do, even in my last moments. I declined the date because I didn't want anybody to know I was gay. But, dammit Cooper, you grew on me. If I could re-do everything between us, I would. I would shout my love for you to the top of my lungs. And the things I'd do… just to get one last moment with you… but that can't happen because I'm dying, Coop. I was bitten a couple of hours ago," he whimpered, "he was just a kid… and I couldn't do anything to protect myself," another sob before he recuperated, swallowing air deeply, "and now everyone in this room is going to die. Their blood will be on my hands. And before I die, I wanted to say this to you. I hope you're still out there Cooper. Stay safe, keep moving, and stay alive,"

Cooper's breath hitched and his fingers tightened around the phone until his knuckles were white. Tears he didn't even know were there had fallen and stained his face with a sticky feeling. He was losing the one man he truly loved. The one man who could instantly make him feel worthy with a glance. The one man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And once he lost him, he knew that all of what made himself would suddenly disappear.

"I love you."

The line cut and he was gone.

 **=X=**

Raeann couldn't feel any smaller. She sat trembling in the driver's seat of her red truck, flinching at every fist that came pounding on the window. Her hands were caked in blood and smeared up to her elbow. Cheeks were tear-stained and her body slowly rocked. It looked as if she just went mental.

The key sat in the ignition and she hadn't bothered to start the car. Her deep blue eyes continued to stare vacantly into the dark. It's only been two hours since she got out of work and she took the woman's warning into heed. Raeann gathered her family and planned to get out of town before things could get worse, but it was much too late.

Now she was alone; cradling herself in the dark of night. The street poles were the only thing that provided light for her since she hadn't turned on the truck. Partly for fear of unwanted attention and because she was genuinely in shock. The lights created a more sinister look as infected gradually limped past them.

There weren't as many infected crowded near her vehicle since most had dispersed an hour after she got in. There were obviously more vulnerable people to get to instead of a girl who locked herself in a truck.

Raeann drew in a deep breath and hesitantly turned her head towards the window; one of the first movements she made since locking herself in.

The window was dirty with prints and blood was smudged in shapes of hands and fingers. She allowed herself to relax when she saw that no infected stood at her window. They all had wandered off in search for easier prey. Then she reluctantly turned her head to glance at the front of her house.

Three bodies were barely visible in the dark of night. But it wasn't only the dark that made it hard to see them; their features weren't even noticeable. Pieces of flesh were missing and bone appeared under pale skin. They were practically gone in terms of flesh.

Tears brimmed her eyes again and she quickly looked away, sucking in a breath that broke as a sob replaced it.

 _You can't stay here… You can't stay here knowing that they died here._

She felt the familiar feeling of tears dripping down her eyes to her cheeks. She reached for the key, vision blurred by frustrating tears.

 _Push yourself forward. You can't stay here._

The truck came to life with a roar, lights flickering on to illuminate her surroundings. Infected abruptly stopped in their steps, snapping their heads toward the truck. Her heart sped up slightly and she frantically put the car in reverse before putting full throttle on the gas pedal. The truck jerked back and her head hit the seat hard.

Infected neared her car, some even landing their fingers on the windows. She pushed up on the lever, putting it into drive, and stomped on the gas pedal. The truck sped down the street and if the dead weren't walking, she would have definitely got in trouble with the law.

She glanced at the time on her dashboard as she sped forward, her truck practically flying as it crashed against dead obstacles. It was 10:00; the time where her and her family would cuddle up in the living room for a movie.

 _Keep moving..._

Raeann stole a reluctant glimpse into the rearview mirror and caught sight of the three figures lying motionless in the grass. One had a small child in her arms, both limp and sprawled awkwardly on each other. The last one was a couple of inches away, an arm stretched to reach the others.

Raeann looked away and shook her head, focusing her eyes on the road.

 _Just keep moving…_

 **=X=**

"Here's to luck," Noah announced, throwing an arm up with drink in hand, "without it, we wouldn't be here."

Red liquid tossed back and forth like waves in his cup, some splattering onto the table as he brought it to his mouth.

The rest of the table held up their cups that matched in color. Except Charlie who chose to have soda instead of wine; a route she took in sake of her young age and her sobriety.

Noah's lips puckered at the taste and he set the glass down harshly on the table, "phew!" He whistled. "That shit gets tangier with every sip."

Lucas took a shot without complaining, but the purse of his lips showed that it was as tangy as Noah said it was. He decided it'd be okay to drink tonight; his daughter was sleeping in the cabin next door and he knew she was safe. However, he wanted to stay mentally intact; Amity's never seen him drunk and Lucas was known to get aggressive when he was.

Saffron sipped quietly despite the conversation that sparked between the three men and shared an awkward silence with Charlie who sat two chairs across from her.

"So, you said you have a son?" Lucas asked, chocolate brown eyes dilated in interest as he turned to Jimmy.

The blond nodded, "yep. He's 12. He fell asleep waiting for us, so you'll have to meet him tomorrow," he explained and the slightest smile poked at his lips, "he's a good kid."

Lucas settled into his seat, his shoulders once tense now relaxed, "that's good. My daughter has trouble making friends, ever since-" he paused and frowned, a sigh escaping his pursed lips, "ever since her mother died,"

The table had gone quiet and Lucas reached for the wine bottle, pouring the liquid until the glass was nearly full.

"Well, Brian can relate," Jimmy said, his voice suddenly sounding tired and low as he took the wine bottle from Lucas and refilled his own glass.

The two clanked glasses together. Lucas gulped down the alcohol in one swallow and placed the glass back on the table, going for the wine bottle again to refill.

"Welcome to the dead wives club," Noah snorted, his eyes already glassy. He's obviously already had a couple of drinks to make him tipsy and the topic only stressed him out. "Never had any kids… didn't get the chance to. Too busy serving in the military to pay attention to my wife. I don't regret those years, but I wish I spent more time with her."

The men turned their heads towards him, and Lucas swallowed another shot before speaking, "how many years did you serve?" He asked, trying to redirect the topic to something less morbid.

"Ten," he replied. "Until my leg was blown off and replaced with this bad boy," he lifted his leg onto the table and slammed it down. Then he pulled away his pant leg to reveal a plastic prosthetic.

Lucas' brows raised in shock. He hadn't noticed since his slackers were covering his legs and assumed the limp was from age or an old injury.

"That had to hurt like hell," Lucas remarked. "Both physically and spiritually."

Noah nodded, "it did," he agreed. "Longest 8 months of my life, but Ivy was there through it all."

"That's the beauty in love… you'd always be there for each other," Jimmy said, staring at his cup as if his mind was elsewhere.

"I served six years, three of them in Afghanistan. I was originally suppose to serve eight, but I had to come home early after my wife was diagnosed with cancer. Went back a year later," Lucas explained, grabbing the wine bottle.

Noah stared at him curiously and his furrowed brows showed that he was slight confused, "why'd you go back? Your wife had cancer…"

He took another shot, "she was sleeping with another man."

"What about your daughter?" Charlie piped up, right hand on her chin and the left tapping out of boredom on the table, "you just left her to deal?"

Hostility could be heard in her voice, like she had known what Amity felt.

Lucas shook his head, a little too much, "I shouldn't have left… if that's the one thing I regret most in my life, it's leaving her to deal with her dying mother. I just felt…betrayed."

"You have to push those feeling aside, man," Noah slurred, holding up his glass slightly. He'd been taking shots since Lucas had started talking, and his lack of sobriety became noticeable.

He swallowed thickly, setting down his cup and pushing it away like he lost his appetite, "thank you for the drinks," he said, and stood up, his legs pushing the chair back as he abruptly lifted himself. "I'll see you all in the morning."

He began to walk towards the door and when he opened it, he was greeted with the chilling wind of winter.

"You've got work to do tomorrow, Lucas," Noah said, wavering his cup up in a signal of goodbye.

Lucas nodded before walking out into the bitter cold and closing the door behind him. It was then he noticed his sobriety change. His peripheral vision was blurred, and he had a little trouble walking to his cabin. He walked slowly along the stoned path that lead to his cabin.

Crickets chirped in the dark of the night and an owl could be heard from the distance. It was a typical winter night.

When he reached the door, he inserted a key Noah gave him into the lock and turned the knob. The cabin was dark, except for a single lit candle that sat in the hallway between two rooms. The main room shared the likes between a kitchen and a living room. A TV sat near the window to the right of the room along with three green fabric couches that were neatly set to make a square around the TV. A polished wooden table sat clear in the middle. To his left, a dining table surrounded by polished wood countertops and cabinets. A wall separated the main room from a hallway where doors would lead to two bedrooms and a bathroom.

This would might as well have been a small house instead of a cabin.

He took off his shoes, setting them neatly by the door. He didn't bother to change into any comfortable clothes to sleep because he had none.

Lucas quietly sauntered into the hallway and reached for the knob to Amity's bedroom door.

He winced at the creaking sound the door made, and peaked his head around the corner of a red painted to wall to see if Amity shifted. She hadn't moved. She slept soundlessly and peacefully, the only movement made was the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

Lucas quietly moved forward until he was nearly inches away from his daughter. He smiled at the sight of her delicate face, her naturally pale skin had darkened under the sky of the night and her small body curled against the wool blanket in protection of the cold.

Lucas reached forward and gently moved a stray piece of hair out of her face and behind her ear.

"Good night, baby girl."

 **Wanted to end it on a somewhat peaceful note...? Honestly, it kinda' feels unfinished. I had writer's block, so I'm sorry to disappoint those who were expecting better.**

 **Is Cooper going to completely shut down? Where's Raeann headed? What kind of work is Lucas going to be assigned to? Who the hell is this killer and is he going to be back? All questions will be answered soon enough, so be sure to watch out for the next couple of chapters.**

 **Feedback is much appreciated!**

 **Any questions, concerns, or ideas for your OCs, please PM me!**


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